Page 77 of Beauty and the Daddy

Belle. He means Belle, but he won't say her name. Like speaking it might give her power over him too.

"Use her name," I set down my coffee harder than necessary. "You're not casting spells."

His smile could cut glass. "Aren't I?"

I hate that look on Declan's face. That smug, snake-oil smile that says he's found something to use against me. He's been circling Belle like a vulture for days, and now he thinks he's got meat.

My brother's always loved his dramatic ways. Too bad for him I'm not in the mood for theater today.

So, I let the silence stretch and let him climb into it, as he usually does.

"She's manipulating you," he says finally. "And I don't say that lightly."

"You don't say anything lightly." I give him the stare that empties rooms. "The genius in the room, after all, aren't you?"

Checkmate. That hits him smack in his pride. He's always wanted to be in control of our empire. Hates that I got it by age alone.

He fixes up that wounded look faster than I can enjoy it.

"Thought you might want to see this." He taps the folder with one finger. "Evidence."

I don't touch it. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."

"It's about your little princess." His voice drops an octave. "Belle's been lying to you, Luca."

Now he has my attention, but I'll be damned if I let him see it. I lean back in my chair, face blank as concrete. "Is that right?"

"Open the folder."

I stare him down, then flip the damn thing open just to get him off my back. Inside are photos—grainy security camera stills showing Belle entering a medical clinic. Time stamps. Dates.

I freeze. This was when she said she was out meeting her father.

"She's been sneaking out to doctor's appointments," Declan says, watching my face for any crack in the armor. "She's been there twice now."

I close the folder, slide it back across the desk. "You're having my fiancée followed?"

"Someone has to look out for the family interests when you're thinking with your dick."

I stand so fast that my chair slams into the wall behind me. "Get out."

"Really? That's your response? She's hiding something from you, and you're mad at me?"

"Going to a doctor isn't warfare," I sneer. "It doesn't make her dangerous. Instead of accusing me of thinking with my dick, use your goddamn brain."

"You didn't know she was going, did you?"

The alarms in my head start to ring. If she's been sick, why hasn't she told me? He watches for it. I don't give him the satisfaction of grabbing something.

"You done?" I ask.

"Not even close," he says. "She's a liability. She keeps secrets. She lies to your face and then bakes cookies with your kid like she's an innocent disney princess. It's strategic."

Or it's survival, my head says. Or it's plain old kindness. Or simply her trying to hold herself together while the walls close in.

Out loud I say nothing. Declan fills the space.

"You think I'm heartless," he says, softer. "I'm not. I see the way you look at her. That's why I'm here. Because the way you look at her is the way a man stops seeing straight. And when you stop seeing straight, you get us all killed."